Missing Moments - Blindspot Holidays and Birthdays
by Indelible Evidence
Summary: A collection of holiday- and birthday-related Blindspot fics. Each chapter is a new fic, and none of these fics will be getting a continuing second chapter. Most, if not all, entries here will be Jeller.
1. Makeout Mistletoe (Jeller, season 3)

**Author's Note: **This fanfic will be a collection of **one-chapter** fics set around **holidays and birthdays**. None of these fics will be getting a continuing second chapter.

* * *

**Makeout Mistletoe**

Jeller, set in a non-specific season (post-Jeller-marriage), but I guess maybe season 3?

* * *

"Rich, what are you doing?" Reade demanded, frowning.

"Isn't it obvious?" Rich dragged the stepladder away from the elevator doors and collapsed it, then leaned it up against the wall. "The next people who come out of the elevator have to make out under the mistletoe."

"Let me guess," Patterson said. "You already hacked the elevator so that it doesn't stop at any other floors except the car park, where Jane and Weller will be any second now."

Rich snorted. "No. I have no idea why you'd think such a ridiculous—okay, yes, but only a little."

"I want to know when a mistletoe _kiss_ became mistletoe _making out_," Zapata said, looking up from her paperwork.

"Hey, if Bob from the mailroom and Mabel from human resources are the next two people out of that elevator, Rich, you gotta stand there and watch that makeout session for as long as it lasts," Reade told him, then headed back into his office, rolling his eyes.

"I mean, I wouldn't _hate_ that… It takes all sorts." Mercifully, they were saved from more discussion about Bob and Mabel—two of the least likely people in the whole building to engage in an office makeout session with anyone, let alone each other—by the elevator lights indicating that someone was on the way to SIOC.

When the elevator doors opened, most of the agents and administration workers in the open-plan room turned to look towards the anticipated spectacle. As Rich registered that Jane and Kurt had arrived, he let out a noise not entirely unlike a squeak, and dashed forward to intercept them.

"Hey, you guys, I need you to stand right…here."

Kurt and Jane exchanged baffled looks, but allowed themselves to be positioned where Rich specified.

"What exactly is this about, Rich?" Kurt asked.

"And, uh, why is everyone staring?" Jane added, her gaze scanning the oh-so-casually attentive audience.

"Look up," Rich said, grinning.

They both did, and their confusion shifted into amused exasperation as they registered the mistletoe pinned up above the elevator doors.

"Apparently that's makeout mistletoe, not just kiss mistletoe, guys," Patterson said, and sipped from her coffee mug to hide her smile.

"I call bullshit," Jane said, unable to keep a straight face as she looked from Rich to her husband.

"Hey, it's two sprigs. That doubles the potency. I don't make the rules," Rich said, giving them his most angelic look.

Kurt's expression made it clear he didn't believe the contrived logic any more than Jane, but after another glance up at the mistletoe, he grinned. "Well, it _is_ Christmas."

With a long-suffering sigh belied by the gleam in her eyes, Jane slid her arms around Kurt's neck. He pulled her close and gave her a lingering, but relatively chaste kiss, which she returned wholeheartedly as the watching agents whooped and applauded.

"Oh, come on," Rich complained, as they separated with soft smiles at each other. "No wandering hands, not even any tongue? That in no way qualifies as making out."

"Quit while you're ahead, Rich," Patterson advised, dragging him back in the direction of the lab while Jane and Kurt headed the other way, towards the locker room.

"Didn't you once tell me they do all their kissing in the locker room anyway? Maybe I should—" Rich tugged on her arm, to no avail.

"Uh, Rich? You're not going anywhere near that locker room until you clock out of here tonight. You have to unhack the elevator, right now."

"Okay, okay, Scrooge. Humbug to you, as well. Geez," Rich muttered, and let himself be pulled along.


	2. Stay Cool (Kurt's birthday, season 4)

**Stay Cool**

Kurt's birthday - non-specific season (probably season four, after Remi's departure, but no spoilers past late season 3)

* * *

"Looks like it's gonna be an all-nighter, people," Reade said. "You have your tasks. Let's get going."

Jane groaned as he left the lab. "Looks like your birthday surprise is getting a rain check," she told her husband regretfully.

Kurt kissed the top of her head, looking unperturbed. "Hey, I still get to spend the night with you. Just a little different than whatever you planned." After squeezing her shoulder affectionately, he headed after Reade.

Jane looked over at Patterson anxiously. "I hate to do this to you guys, but is it okay if we reschedule?"

Patterson gave her a reassuring smile. "Shouldn't be a problem. Really."

Jane sighed with relief. "Thank you so, so much. You have no idea what this will mean to him."

Patterson snorted. "Actually, from the way he acted the first time around, I'm pretty sure I do. And I'm bringing a camera to capture the moment for posterity. Tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night." Jane gave her friend a grateful look and turned to head back to SIOC.

* * *

**Twenty-six hours later**

Jane linked her arm through Kurt's as they headed towards the steakhouse. "You have to promise not to make a huge deal out of this, okay?"

Kurt gave her a puzzled look. "How can I promise that when I don't even know what this is all about?"

"You'll know in a minute. Just stay cool." Jane tried to keep the grin from her face, but was only moderately successful.

"I'm an FBI agent, remember? I'm calm in all kinds of situations."

_Not this one…_ Jane bit back the response and kissed him on the cheek as they reached the corner. "Happy birthday."

Still a little bewildered, his attention on Jane, Kurt rounded the corner and glanced ahead, looking for the entrance to the steakhouse. Then he made a noise that was only a touch too manly to be considered a squeal.

"We're having dinner with Bill Nye the Science Guy? Jane Doe, will you marry me again? Or is there a commitment more serious than marriage? I want that." Kurt pulled her into his arms.

Jane laughed and returned his kiss. "Play it cool, remember."

"I…make no promises."


	3. Flowers for Jane (Jeller, season 2)

**Flowers for Jane**

Christmas in season two, when Kurt is single but Jane isn't. Kind of a mutual pining thing, no Christmas tree pun intended.

* * *

"Looks like someone loves you, Jane!"

Kurt looked up from the report Zapata had handed him, watching Brianna present Jane with a huge Christmas bouquet—an artfully arranged gathering of red and green and white. It must have cost a fortune, and it was very obviously a message—a message Kurt was getting loud and clear.

_This woman is taken._

Jane stared down at the flowers with a stunned half-smile, her confusion clear. The mystified expression on her face only faded a little when she read the tag on the flowers, a slight flush coming to her cheeks.

Then she looked around at the people nearby, an almost pleading look in her eyes. When she realised Kurt was looking on, she dropped her gaze quickly, almost guiltily.

Oliver didn't know the first thing about the woman he was dating, and that made Kurt feel so much better about that moment. It was petty as hell, but he couldn't help but be glad Jane's days together with this guy were numbered.

"First time being sent flowers, huh?" Zapata asked, stepping forward to rescue her. "I think we have a few vases in the break room cabinet, if you want to pretty up your desk."

"I, uh… Yeah. Good idea."

"Make sure you put enough water in. My first time, I treated flowers like a live plant and tried not to drown them, but they suck up more than you think. It keeps them going for longer." Zapata gave her a quick smile and returned to her own desk.

Still seeming almost as uncomfortable as she was surprised, Jane carried her bouquet off to the break room, and the activity in SIOC returned to normal after one more curious moment.

Kurt finished scanning Zapata's report, then leaned over her desk to initial it, indicating he agreed with her account of how things had gone down before she'd opened fire on the suspect she'd had to shoot, the day before. A few more moments ticked by as he straightened up, looked around.

Jane hadn't returned from the break room, and he couldn't help himself. "Anyone else want more coffee?"

"I'm good." Reade raised his tea cup to his lips.

"Just finished one, thanks." Zapata gave him a sideways glance, but left her thoughts unspoken.

As Kurt entered the break room, he had to suppress the urge to grin—Jane had removed the cellophane from the flowers and stuffed them in a vase, but the stems were far too long, and the whole effect was haphazard. Obviously her talent with art didn't extend to flower-arranging.

Jane herself was leaning against the opposite wall, looking from her phone to the flowers, as though either might bite her at any moment. She could take down an armed man with nothing more than her fists and her wits, but a bunch of flowers made her nervous? It was almost cute.

"Hey," she said, and slid her phone into her pocket.

Had she been thanking Oliver for the flowers, or asking why the hell he'd sent her something so useless? The former, of course. Jane had always been endlessly grateful for any kindness she was shown, especially these days.

Kurt returned her greeting, examining the coffee pot and rinsing out the dregs of bitter sludge before setting on a fresh batch to brew. Then he indicated the flowers. "Need a hand with those?"

She gave him a quick, relieved smile, her discomfort still plain. "I have no idea what to do with them. You can probably tell."

He located the scissors they kept in here for occasions like this, and lifted the bunch of flowers out of the vase, beginning to snip the stems down to size. "You gotta trim the ends off so they can suck up the water easier. Where they were originally cut is too dry to do it properly. This way, they'll live longer, and they're easier to display."

She came to his side, watching him work. "I didn't think you'd be an expert on flowers."

"I'm not, but Emma Shaw was—otherwise, I'd have no clue. I'm not exactly the kind of person people send flowers to." He allowed himself a brief, bittersweet moment to think of Taylor's mom, before setting down the scissors and repositioning a few of the blooms.

"Evidently I'm not, either." Jane shook her head as he stepped back. "They're so beautiful, but they'll die within a week or two. They'd be so much better off in the ground, with their roots."

"Yeah, I've always thought the same." And he'd never have thought of bringing Jane flowers, even during those brief periods of flirtation where they'd almost started something. She was too practical to appreciate them.

He'd once given her a necklace as a birthday gift—the one Emma had bought to match Taylor's eyes. He'd taken it back from the safehouse while Jane was in the black site, but it had suited her, even if she didn't really wear jewellery otherwise. She'd been touched by the gift, but he'd sensed it was mainly for symbolic reasons, back when she'd thought she was Taylor, rather than because the necklace itself was beautiful.

If Kurt had to give Jane a romantic gift these days, it would be something to match her personality. A beautiful but deadly knife, or a custom-made holster for her service weapon, or tickets to something they could attend and appreciate together. Something aimed at building memories to fill the void where her past was still a blank, or something to help her survive their struggle against Shepherd.

He still hadn't found a Christmas gift that would suit her, but there were still a couple of weeks to go. He just had to find something that didn't betray how much thought he'd put into it. Something that would carry the same connotations as the gifts the rest of the team would surely give her: fairly inexpensive, useful or playing on an in-joke, without the intensity of his feelings coming through to make things inappropriate or awkward.

What would Oliver get Jane for Christmas? His romantic gesture bugged Kurt, even as it made him confident Jane would eventually leave the clueless man she was dating. Flowers were so generic, guaranteed to please the vast majority of women while requiring very little thought about what that woman was like.

Oliver didn't understand Jane. He didn't deserve her.

"Thank you. For making up for my, um, shortcomings here." She picked up the flowers, ready to take them back to her desk.

"Things are going well with your guy, then? You're happy?" He couldn't help but ask, even knowing that the answer would hurt, no matter what it was.

"I think so. I mean, I've never done this before. But dates and flowers seem to be the things people do when they're into each other, so… I guess I just have to learn how to do this stuff." She shrugged. "He's going to Sydney for Christmas, visiting family. And I think I wanna stay with Roman for New Year's Eve, since he doesn't remember much yet. I think he was a little disappointed. Oliver, I mean. But I guess this is his way of saying it's not a dealbreaker, not getting to spend time together over the holidays."

Kurt couldn't help but notice the way she avoided answering his second question. Was she happy? Maybe not yet. But eventually she'd find a guy who fit her better, probably before Kurt saw an opening to tell her he still had feelings for her, and he'd have to deal with it when that happened.

"You deserve to be happy, Jane."

"Thanks." She smiled down at the flowers, as though making a concerted effort to settle for what she had.

Why couldn't he make himself tell her he'd never buy her flowers? That he saw who she really was, knew how much she struggled with the everyday normality that everyone else seemed to find easy? That he hoped so much that he hadn't missed his chance with her, that he hadn't driven her so far from him that she'd never consider trying again?

_I love you, Jane. _Even if the words would never make it out of his mouth, he could admit that to himself now. It was screwed up that it had taken seeing her with another man to make him realise it.

He poured a cup of freshly brewed coffee, then fell into step with Jane as they left the break room together.

"How about you?" she asked casually. "Any Christmas dates over the holidays?"

He snorted at the idea. "I'll be in Portland on Christmas Eve. I'm not a huge fan of big holidays, but I haven't seen Sarah and Sawyer for too long, and I think Sarah wants to introduce me to her new boyfriend. Don't mention that to Reade, by the way."

"My lips are sealed." Jane shot a quick, sympathetic look at the back of Reade's head.

They fell quiet as they returned to the vicinity of Jane's desk, and Jane put down the vase of flowers with obvious relief.

"Say hi to Sarah and Sawyer for me," she told him, then shook her head apologetically. "I mean, if that wouldn't be weird, under the circumstances."

"I'll let them know you said hi. Thanks." He was touched that she wanted to reach out to his sister and nephew, even knowing that Sarah was still feeling hurt that Jane wasn't Taylor Shaw.

Jane sighed and scooted her chair closer to her desk. "I guess this search isn't gonna complete itself. I'll let you know if I find anything that tells us where this guy might have disappeared to."

Kurt nodded, casting one final look at Jane's flowers and touching her on the shoulder briefly, before heading back to his office.

If he were in Oliver's position, he'd...

Sighing, he shut down the thoughts of sitting beside an open fire with Jane, a Christmas tree filled with twinkling lights nearby, wrapped gifts underneath it waiting to be exchanged. Mistletoe overhead, and a mischievous glint in her eye as she leaned forward to kiss him.

It wasn't going to happen—not this year, or any other year. This year, he would be in Portland, and Jane would no doubt spend as much time with Roman as his imprisonment would allow. Next year, he fully intended to spend as much of Christmas as possible with his baby girl, though he and Allie hadn't worked out the finer points of how it would all work yet. Hell, they hadn't even agreed on a name for her yet.

It was better to focus on a future he could have than daydream up a wishful fiction that revolved around Jane.

But maybe he could find some way to have Roman spend the holidays with Jane at her safehouse. If Roman was under guard or a protective detail, the way Jane had been in the beginning, it might work out. He'd have to sell it to Dr. Sun, the psychologist they'd brought in to replace Borden—but he was nothing if not determined.

It wouldn't be his official Christmas gift to Jane, but it would be worth it to see her joyful over the holidays.


	4. Mutual Pining (Jeller, season 1)

**Mutual Pining**

Jeller go shopping for Christmas (pine) trees - I'm so sorry for that terrible pun. Set somewhere between 1x06 and 1x09. Not quite smut, so I guess rated around T.

* * *

"Umm…Kurt?"

He turned down the radio, glancing over at Jane. "Something on your mind?"

She looked out at the stalled traffic around them, seeming a little hesitant, before focusing back on him. "Do you have a Christmas tree?"

Of all the things that Kurt had expected her to ask, this wasn't one of them. "Usually I don't bother, but since Sawyer's living with me at the moment, I'll be picking one up at some point soon. Why?"

"I was just wondering where you'd get one. It's not like they have them at the minimart."

Kurt attempted to hide his amusement. The things Jane knew, or didn't know, sometimes surprised him. She could put together a sniper rifle without thinking about it, but buying a Christmas tree was foreign to her. "You want to come with me when I get mine? There's a Christmas tree farm on the outskirts of the city. I was planning to take Sawyer this weekend."

"I don't want to intrude on your family time," Jane demurred.

"You're not intruding." In fact, he wished she was a little more inclined to spend time with him outside of work, so that he could work on helping her with her memories of their childhood.

_Sure, Kurt, that's the only reason you want to spend time with a beautiful, athletic brunette._

He ignored his inner monologue, and told Jane, "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't mean it."

"In that case, sure. I'd love to come along." She smiled. "I guess I should go ornament shopping in preparation."

Kurt eased the car a few feet forward, then hit the brake again as the car in front came to a stop. Rush hour in New York was rarely a rush.

"You don't seem like the kind of person who'd go in for all the Christmas stuff," he said.

"Yeah, I sort of don't think I am, either. But everyone else is doing it, and I sort of want something normal in my life, so…" She shrugged.

_Oh, Jane…_ He resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand, wishing her life wasn't so confusing and difficult on a daily basis. Only a few days ago, they'd argued over her suggestion that she and a witness in a case could spend time together socially, and he knew she struggled with not having any friends outside of the FBI.

He changed the subject, hoping to lighten her mood. "Don't worry, Sawyer knows the truth about Santa Claus now, so you don't have to pretend."

"What's the truth about Santa Claus?" she asked, wide-eyed, and then laughed at his uncertain reaction. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Even with the ZIP, that one has filtered through to me."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt turned up the radio again, while Jane snickered.

* * *

"Can we get a really big tree?" Sawyer asked excitedly, as they walked through the rows of pre-cut trees, already wrapped in netting and ready for transport.

"Not too big, buddy. Remember, we have to get our tree and Jane's strapped to the top of the car at the same time." The height of the tree wouldn't affect that too much, but Sawyer didn't need to know that. Kurt didn't mind having a Christmas tree, but if left to pick on his own, his nephew would select one taller than the ceiling of the apartment.

"'Cut your own tree'," Sawyer read from a sign, and looked around at his uncle, a pleading look in his eyes. "Can we cut our own? Look, they have axes you can use."

"Hey, let me handle the sharp objects, okay?" Kurt pulled Sawyer back, wincing at the idea of returning Sarah's child covered in blood and pine needles.

Jane hefted an axe as though it weighed nothing, studying it critically. "This one looks like it'll do."

Kurt tried not to let his appreciation of her axe-handling technique show. "Let's find some good trees, then."

He and Jane hung back while Sawyer dashed between trees excitedly, searching for the perfect one.

"That's cute," Jane said, keeping her voice down so it didn't reach Sawyer.

"He's growing up fast, but he still has his moments." After a moment, he held out his hand for the axe she held. "Want me to take that? Unless you want to be the lumberjack today…?"

"I think I'll just get one of the pre-packaged ones by the entrance. I'm not that particular." She handed over the axe, her gloved hand brushing his.

Why was it that even though they were both wearing gloves, the moment seemed intimate?

Kurt shook off the thought and called to Sawyer, warning him not to stray too far.

"I found some really good ones!" Sawyer called back.

After scaling down Sawyer's expectations a little, they finally came across some trees about Kurt's height, and he set about cutting one down. "Keep back with Jane, okay, buddy? I don't want to hit you by mistake."

The trunk of the pine tree wasn't especially thick, but the axe had enough weight to it that Kurt was a little out of breath by the time the tree swayed and began to topple.

"Timber!" Sawyer yelled gleefully, running forward to 'catch' the tree. "It smells like Christmas."

Smiling at his nephew's enthusiasm, Kurt glanced back at Jane, finding her eyes already on him. Seeming a little flustered, she bit her lip and looked away for a moment, then came forward to join them. "You guys need a hand?"

"I want to help Uncle Kurt carry the tree. But you could take the axe?" Sawyer suggested.

"Sure," she told Sawyer. "Just let me know if you get too tired with the tree, all right?"

"I won't get tired. I'm ten now."

Amused, Jane held out her hand, and Kurt carefully transferred the axe back into her grip. "Sure you don't want one of these trees, too?"

"I'm good," Jane said. "I was thinking something maybe half the size of this one."

"You've never heard the phrase 'go big or go home'?" Kurt teased. "If you're having one, might as well make it count."

She shook her head, smiling shyly. "If I feel the need for a bigger tree after I decorate mine, I'll just come over and enjoy yours. Does that work?"

For some reason, that image gave Kurt a warm glow in his chest. "Well, you know you're welcome to come and have Christmas dinner with us, right?"

They began to walk slowly back towards the entrance to the tree farm, Kurt carrying the tree's weight on his shoulder, and Sawyer tagging along behind, 'supporting' the top of the tree. It made no difference to Kurt's burden, but he pretended it did, for Sawyer's sake.

"I, um…" Jane said, looking down at the ground. Kurt guessed she was remembering the last time she'd had a meal at their place, when she'd freaked out halfway through dinner and run out on them.

"Don't worry, it's Uncle Kurt who's cooking, not mom," Sawyer chipped in.

"Hey, your mom's gonna help peel potatoes and stuff." Kurt had always given Sarah a hard time about her cooking, but he didn't want her son to pick up the habit.

"Can you cook, Taylor? I mean, Jane?" Sawyer asked.

"Uhhh, only a little. I'm not great. Your uncle is probably the best cook here," Jane admitted ruefully.

"I thought girls were supposed to be good cooks, and Mom was just weird."

Kurt laid the tree down carefully, handing it over to the tree farm workers, who began to bundle it up. "Nah, I know lots of girls who can't cook. Lots of girls who can, too."

"And lots of girls who can fight, right?" Sarah must have been giving her son a lecture on gender equality.

"Yeah, I work with lots of girls who fight. Like Jane—we do practice fights so we know how to take down the bad guys, and she can win nine times out of ten." _And it's hot as hell._

Sawyer stared at Jane in open admiration. "That's awesome."

Jane laughed. "Maybe I can show you some moves sometime. But only if your mom and uncle say it's okay."

Sawyer immediately turned to Kurt with a pleading look.

"Ask your mom. If it's okay with her, then it's okay with me." _Sorry, Sarah. I'm not wading into this one._

Sawyer sighed. "It probably won't be okay. But I'll ask."

* * *

Jane had let her protective detail know she was returning home—being transferred back from Kurt's responsibility to theirs, though she hated having any detail at all—a few minutes into the drive home, and they were in their usual position on the street as Kurt pulled to a stop outside her place building.

"You wait in the car for a second, okay, buddy?" he said to his nephew, and went to check with the agents that Jane's place was clear.

Jane got out of the car, inhaling the pine fragrance of the trees strapped to the roof rack as she waited for Kurt to give the all-clear. He returned, and together they took her small tree off the rack.

"Still think you should have got a bigger one," he told her, shaking his head as he looked down at it. It was around Sawyer's height.

"I'll start small, and work up to a bigger one next year, maybe." She smiled up at him. "Thank you for this. I had fun."

"Need any help getting that inside?" he asked, though his tone of voice indicated he already knew the answer.

"I'm good. Don't make Sawyer wait to start decorating your tree any longer."

Kurt nodded, his breath misting in the freezing air. "The offer for Christmas dinner still stands. No pressure, but I don't like to think of you having to celebrate Christmas alone."

"Can I let you know, a few days ahead of time?" Jane asked. The last thing she wanted was to cause drama on Christmas Day by freaking out again, but she also felt the pull of having Kurt and his family around.

"Sure." He pulled the cords tethering the other tree to the roof rack tighter, then stepped back. "See you on Monday, okay?"

"Yeah. Have fun with the tree."

He smiled, his gaze somehow too gentle for her to bear. "You, too."

Hoping she wasn't blushing at the attention, Jane bent a little to wave goodbye to Sawyer through the car window. He waved back enthusiastically. When she straightened, Kurt was already opening the driver's door, so she stepped back, lifting her tree and giving him room.

He buckled his seatbelt and glanced around, raising a hand in farewell. She gave a small wave and a smile, then turned away as he put the car into gear.

Maybe if Sawyer hadn't been with them, he would have come in to help her decorate her own tree. Maybe stayed for some beer and a little conversation not related to work. But that wasn't going to happen, and as she carried the tree into her living room, Jane tried to convince herself it was better that way.

It wasn't like she had any mistletoe handy, even if he had come in. And the one time she'd tried to make her feelings for him known, he'd left her apartment in a hurry. He wouldn't take mistletoe as a cue for more than a quick kiss on the cheek, anyway.

She wished she had a better context for the way she felt, and for the way he acted around her. Not remembering any of her past flirtations or relationships made her uncertain. Sometimes she was so powerfully attracted to him, like when she'd watched him cutting down the Christmas tree earlier. There was something so masculine about the way he'd moved, setting her stomach aflutter with butterflies. And sometimes when he looked at her, she could swear she saw her interest returned.

Maybe she just wanted that so badly that she was convincing herself of things that weren't real.

Sighing, she slotted the tree's trunk into the stand she'd bought just for this purpose, then stepped back, looking around for her scissors to cut away the netting that bound the pine's limbs.

At least she could decorate her Christmas tree now, and try not to think about Kurt doing the same thing, only a few blocks away.

* * *

The lights were finally on the tree, though it had taken a lot of work to untangle them from the pile he'd left them in after he'd last used them, several years ago. Kurt stepped back and held up his hands. "Okay, you guys can go nuts with the ornaments now. I'm done."

As Sawyer dove forward to start slotting ornaments onto branches, Sarah leaned over to her brother, speaking quietly so that the kid couldn't hear. "Kurt and Taylor, shopping for a tree, K-I-S-S-I—"

"Shut up," he told his irritating little sister, sighing.

"You're pining for her. It's so obvious." Sarah sorted through the box of tinsel and tree ornaments, a smug smile on her face.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." He went into the kitchen to pour himself some of the mulled wine Sarah had heated on the stove.

"Hey, Sawyer, did you have fun with Taylor today?" Sarah called to her son.

"Yeah, she's cool. Uncle Kurt says she can kick his butt in sparring practice too."

"Really?" Sarah arched her eyebrow knowingly at Kurt.

"You're reaching a little, here," he told her, rolling his eyes.

"I remember that summer you were fifteen and you fell in love with Emily Lockwood, and you two were joined at the lips. You had that exact same puppy-dog look on your face when you had to go back to military school in the fall." Sarah shook her head. "You might as well admit it."

"Sarah, just quit it, okay?"

"You should go over there and help her with her tree lights. Take a few extra ornaments over. And this…" Sarah pulled a piece of plastic mistletoe out of the box and tossed it at him.

"You really think that's how to hit on women?" he deflected, staring down at the mistletoe in his hands.

Sarah shrugged. "It would work on me."

"I'm not making a move on Taylor Shaw," Kurt said irritably, and sipped some mulled wine.

"Okay…but just ask yourself this: how are you going to feel if some other guy does, huh?" Sarah picked up a pile of laundry from the back of the couch and headed into the bedroom, leaving Kurt alone to ponder her question.

Kurt sat on the arm of the couch, staring at the half-decorated tree, and tried not to imagine Jane smiling up at some other guy, reaching up to put her arms around his neck and gazing at him with those expressive hazel eyes.

Jealousy wasn't a good look on anyone, but he couldn't deny that it was ripping through his chest at the thought of Jane with someone else. And she wouldn't always be as socially isolated as she was right now. Sooner or later, someone would hit on her, and if she was interested in return, there would be nothing Kurt could do about it.

Only he already knew she was interested in him, and he'd already backed away.

_You. You're my starting point._

_I'll see you tomorrow._

And he'd practically run out of there, the memory of her heart pounding against his palm forever branded into his mind. Not his finest moment, but he'd needed time to think. And then he'd put off deciding what to do about it, deeming it too complicated an issue to untangle.

But as far as Jane knew, he'd rejected her. Sometimes when she looked at him, he still saw traces of the longing he'd seen in her face that night, but it was always involuntary, always quickly hidden away when she realised he was watching her.

If another man did come along and show an interest in her, she'd have no reason to think she should hold out hope for a relationship with Kurt.

By the time Sarah got back to the living room to check on her son, Kurt was gone. And so was the piece of plastic mistletoe.

* * *

Jane draped the tree lights in a spiralling pattern for the third time, scowling as the tiny damn bulbs refused to stay where she wanted them. Finally disentangling herself from the branches again, she stepped back and hit the switch to power the lights on, half convinced this whole tree decoration project was something she was doomed to fail.

The lights came on, and Jane smiled for the first time since she'd started attempting to decorate. To her artist's eye, it wasn't perfect, but it would do.

A knock at her door made her frown. She wasn't expecting anyone, and she knew better than to think it was Kurt—or at least, that was what she assumed until she opened the door.

"Hey," he said, as she blinked up at him in confusion. "Thought you might need a few extra ornaments, so…" He held up a small cardboard box with 'Xmas tree' scrawled over the side in marker pen.

She stepped back to let him in, wondering if she looked as dishevelled and undignified as she felt, after her three tussles with the tree so far. "Don't you need those for _your_ tree?"

He shrugged, shutting the door behind him. "Sarah bought a couple of new sets this year, and since this is your first time decorating a tree, I figured you might have underestimated how much you can fit on one. Nice work with the lights, by the way."

"Thanks," she said, glancing back at the tree. "It took me three tries, and it's still a little uneven, but I can live with that."

"Looks fine to me."

_And you look fine to me._ Jane shrugged off the appreciative thought and remembered her manners. "Do you want coffee, or a beer, or something?"

"I drove over, so probably best to stick to coffee. Thanks."

Jane headed for the kitchen, wondering why it always felt so different in her apartment when she was alone with Kurt. Work was still a whole day and night away, and she still wasn't quite sure how to react to him in a social context. At least earlier, Sawyer had been there as a kind of buffer between them. Now they were alone, she was a little lost.

"Want help decorating, or shall I just sit and watch?" Kurt called from the living room.

"Go ahead and get started. Sitting and watching me decorate a Christmas tree sounds like the most boring thing in the world, so you might as well help."

She brought in their coffee a few minutes later, to find he'd started decorating from the bottom up. After putting down the mugs, Jane reached for the star tree-topper she'd bought, ready to place it on the top, but Kurt gently intercepted her hand.

"The star goes on last."

She looked down at the glittery golden star ornament, and his fingers wrapped around her wrist, damning her traitorous pulse for speeding up at his touch. "Is that a Weller rule, or a generally accepted thing?"

"No, it's really what you're supposed to do." He smiled up at her from his crouch on the floor, and she tried not to melt. "Though come to think of it, I don't know why. Bad luck, or something."

"Well, I've had about as much bad luck as I can stand this year," she said dryly, putting down the tree topper. She dropped to her knees beside the ornament box he'd brought over. Sorting through the contents, she turned over a fake sprig of mistletoe, but didn't pull it out, feeling as though her earlier thoughts about kissing Kurt underneath some were stamped on her forehead.

They worked efficiently together, spacing ornaments apart and debating what colours should go where. Kurt seemed to favour simple ornaments and tinsel in warm colours, which Jane appreciated. She'd seen a few post-modern Christmas trees decorated in colder colours—they never looked quite as pleasing to her eye as the traditional ones.

Sitting back to get a better sense of the overall effect, Jane reached for her coffee cup and took a sip. "Think we need anything else?"

Kurt studied their handiwork, then stood up. "Just the tree topper. I'll let you do the honours."

Jane carefully positioned the golden star at the top of the tree, then nodded. "Looks good."

"We're not done yet."

Jane frowned, getting up from the floor. "I thought the tree topper had to be last?"

"The last thing you put on the tree, yeah. But after that, you have to turn off the other lights so you can admire the finished effect."

As she came to his side, he hit the light switch near the door, plunging the room into semi-darkness. On the other side of the room, the tree shone and sparkled, looking as festive as any she'd seen in store windows or on TV.

"Pretty," she said softly, wondering how a tree with a few trinkets hung from its branches could make her feel so warm inside.

"Yeah," he said, his voice equally soft.

When Jane glanced over, he was watching her, not the tree. The illumination from the tree lights was bright enough to highlight his features, though she couldn't read his eyes in this light.

Was he calling _her_ pretty? Or was she looking for affection that wasn't on offer?

Kurt reached into the box he'd set down on the couch, and withdrew something she couldn't quite see. When he turned back to her, her heart jumped at the slight smile on his face.

"I don't have to explain this to you, do I?"

She stared at the piece of fake mistletoe he held up between them, half convinced it was something else, and she was just wishing it was the mistletoe. But then he held it higher, above their heads, and murmured, "Merry Christmas, Jane."

"Merry Christmas," she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

She had no idea what he expected from her. A kiss on the cheek? A peck on the lips? Or more? His shadowed eyes told her nothing, and she wanted to slam her hand onto the light switch so that she could read him better.

But then he slipped his fingers up the edge of her jaw, tilting her head up, and she caught her breath, closing her eyes as he brushed a brief, tentative kiss over her lips.

Too soon, he moved back, leaving her speechless and aroused.

"I didn't want to let today end without doing that," he said, his voice holding a slight note of uncertainty, as though he wasn't sure of his reception. "But if—"

Jane pulled his head back down to meet her lips, cutting off his words and pouring everything she had into returning his kiss. He drew her closer, both arms around her waist, and Jane had no idea where the mistletoe was now, but she didn't care as long as he kept kissing her like this, his tongue flirting with hers as she leaned against him.

Kurt pulled back, putting a little distance between his body and hers, and Jane tried not to think about why he didn't want to be pressed against her right now. Her self-control was already close to breaking point.

"Jane?" he said huskily. The question in his voice made her want to laugh. How could he doubt how she felt?

"Is it good luck or bad to make out in front of a Christmas tree?" she asked.

"I think it has to be good luck, right?" He smiled.

"And in our profession, we need all the good luck we can get."

"True." He nuzzled her neck, sending a tingle down her spine.

"How about, um, other things near a Christmas tree?"

His fingers tightened on her waist, and he pulled her close again. For the first time, she felt the press of his steel-hard cock against her abdomen, and her need for him surged.

"Well, since the floor is still covered in pine needles, unless you want to vacuum first, I'm gonna go with bad luck."

_Oh. Good point._ She stifled disappointment, knowing Kurt was cautious by nature. Of course he wouldn't want to rush things—

He slid his hands over her ass, then down to the backs of her thighs, lifting her off her feet. Instinctively, Jane clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist, unable to help but laugh despite the intensity of the moment. "What—?"

Kurt's voice was somewhere between amused and lustful. "But I hear beds are good luck, so if you happen to have one nearby…"

"I think we can find one somewhere," Jane agreed breathlessly, and watched the Christmas tree lights recede as he carried her through to the bedroom.

By the time she and Kurt located the bed, clothing already strewn on the floor around them, Jane had forgotten the tree, the decorations, and even the abandoned mistletoe.

_END._


End file.
